#feeling soggy

[yoichist]

hi pooks i’m curling into a ball on ur lap like a kitty

[jinaxxo]

howdy sigma!

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lap Pillow

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[andr0nap]

is it a bird? is it a plane? its interdimensional eldritch flying flora!

[mmmairon]

shedding the layers 🤭

[blenselche]

you can't punch the bug in your brain so you'll have to settle with shooting through him as he attempts to well meaning-ly haunt your ass ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[bleepzip]

some keith sketches

[o1iveangel]

more sad sea guy bc rereading the aeneid is devastating me

[avocado62524]

[shalomniscient]

thhtis might just be a big pet peeve to me but i hate when people write kjsr as someone cold or possessive, i always viewed her character as someone who is actually so soft when it comes to love. i cant see her saying anything awful with intention to her s/o and just prob cherishes each moment and intimacy.

yeah, sara is the victim of some INSANE mischaracterisation... i was informed that some people thought of sara as a karen, of all fucking things, and the psychic damage i took from that statement was unfathomable. it was so horrendously insulting i had to put my phone down and breathe for a solid minute, because sara? being a karen? the peak of entitlement? be so fr. sara struggles to even accept her place within the kujou clan, despite being its golden child. she doesn't know how to be entitled to even love, let alone anything else.

there is a quote, i forget by who, which goes "(s)he had the awkward tenderness of someone who has never been loved, and is forced to improvise", and i think it describes her so well. sara was raised to be takayuki's perfect weapon first, and a person second. for sara, to be a 'kujou' is to be the untouchable general, the prodigal child, the crowfeather kaburaya which heralds nothing but victory for the kujou clan. her place in her 'family' is intrinsically tied to what she can give to them, not who she is as a person. her image of her own worth is so entangled with being needed that she doesn't know how to be anything else. she explicitly states that she has never given any thought to her personal aspirations. never. that's so insane and heartbreaking to me like... my love, you are more than what you can give. so i agree with you on the part that sara would be so, so tender when it comes to love. this is uncharted territory, and she's learning as she goes, but you could never be unloved by her. she knows what that's like, and she could never hurt you the same way.

anyway, live laugh love kujou sara. i've been in the kjsr camp for 3 fucking years and i'll continue to be here until the day i die

[luckyashes-art]

With only a couple of hours remaining before the servers close, I just want to bid this game one last farewell ❤️

Splatoon will always be one of my favorite games, if not THE favorite! With so many memories, the game will always live on in my heart.

Until next time... Stay fresh !!

[wizspengs]

🦉🌀Alan doodle page 🌀🦉

happy lake house day

[noirrelite]

She wants your target crackers

[prettyboykatsuki]

you have to be patient with rin but when he loves you he gets there you are the center of his universe whether or not you understand it. he knows and he gets weird and frustrated about it but you are

[gardenofnoah]

the lamp light is warm across the cut of kento’s jaw. you feel it as you watch it clench—somewhere deep in your gut, the gesture makes a home that is as wholly familiar as the creak in the second step up the stairs. his hard angles are like that—you could close your eyes and know the contours of his face from memory, just as you do your own. brow furrowed in focus, he’s so beautiful that it’s almost unsettling. time has not changed him.

not like it’s changed you.

“hello, my love.”

you raise your eyes to meet his, now looking up at you. there’s a soft smile on his face—it’s not teasing, like it would’ve been 5 years ago if he’d caught you staring. likewise, you don’t have it in you to feel sheepish at being caught. not anymore.

you return the greeting, but you know that it’s not as enthusiastic as you want it to be. kento seems to know it, too. he slides the stack of papers in front of him to the side of his desk, leaving the spot in front of him empty. when he looks up at you again it’s an invitation, and it’s one that no matter how shitty you feel, you could never pass up.

you cross the room without an unnecessary step, and he leans back in his chair for you to slot yourself between him and the desk. you take your seat on the wood and he leans forward, reaching for you as he always does when you’re close enough to be just too far from him. his fingers brush down the back of your calves until they wrap around your ankles, gently pulling your feet onto his lap. you let out a little sigh when his thumbs press into the soles.

“something on your mind?”

you meet his gaze again, and it’s both fond and a little worried. he’s as perceptive as he always was—you suppose he’s had to be, though the reasons that necessitated that are few and far between now. the toe dip into retirement has turned into more of a knee-deep wade, and now he mostly uses his observational prowess on you.

you sit back on your hands, sighing a little. 5 years ago, you would’ve vehemently denied that anything was wrong, if only to make sure you could be a partner that never took up too much space. you can’t bring yourself to do that now.

“i look….different.”

he cocks his head to the side, and for a second, he almost looks boyish. it’s warm when it rubs up against the frozen thing in your chest—it thaws you a little.

“different than?”

“different than i used to.”

“right.”

5 years ago, kento’s affirmation would’ve sent you into a tailspin. but it’s different now—you know he doesn’t mean it negatively. it’s more of a prompt for you to continue—a way for him to show you he’s present in the conversation.

“i feel bad about that.”

his brows furrow again—a tiny crease in the middle of them that makes you want to reach out and poke it.

“why do you feel bad about that?”

“i don’t know,” you tip your head back, looking to the ceiling like it’ll have the words you’re searching for on it, “i just…wasn’t expecting the change, i guess. i feel like i don’t know what my body looks like anymore.”

he’s silent while he takes in your words, thumbs sliding up the inside arch of your foot while he thinks. 5 years ago, his silence would have ate at you until you packed it with empty filler to take away from the heaviness you brought into the conversation. it doesn’t bother you now, though—you know he wants to hear what you have to say. you feel secure enough to say it.

“are there specific things about your body that you feel bad about?”

you nod after a moment, choosing not to elaborate. it really didn’t matter what they were—it was not as if it was your first time feeling body insecurity, but this feeling carried a bit of existentialism that you weren’t familiar with—that was the problem.

“i feel like i’m too soft,” you say after another moment of silence. it’s not a bombshell that shatters it—it’s just a tiny pebble dropped from above that disturbs the surface.

“for who?”

“me.”

his fingers curl around your ankles and hold you there while his eyes graze your face. “what do you need right now, my love?”

his eyes settle on yours and you feel your own need for him flare up inside your chest. too warm for the thing that was there before. melted, you crack.

“maybe a hug.”

you blink and he’s standing before you, strong arms reaching around your shoulders to cage your head in to his chest. your thighs squeeze around the outside of his instinctively, like to pull him in is all you know how to do. the hand on the back of your head is warm and unwavering like the rest of him.

“not that you asked for this,” he murmurs into your skin, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, “but i love you soft. you change and i love you more than i thought i could.”

you press your forehead to his collar bone on a shaky exhale, letting his words wash over you. kento is nothing if not a man of whole truths—the biggest of those is that he loves you. it’s not like him to offer you meaningless affirmations just to placate you, so you know this carries weight—you take it for what it is.

“i want to love me soft, too.”

“i know,” he whispers into your hairline, “give it some time. you’ve done this before, no?”

his palm finds the base of your neck and massages the perpetual ache out of the muscle. there are moments that you are grateful for kento’s ability to find solutions where you cannot—to accept the control you hand to him on the basis of trust that has been earned over the years—but right now you’re grateful for his ability to know when to leave something unresolved. it might be true that to let this air out is the best thing for you to do—and knowing you’ll have kento to lean on when it doesn’t seem so simple is helpful.

the warm light casts shadows of your bodies against the wall—distorted and conjoined, and still more beautiful than you’ve ever seen. you think you can understand what he meant.

“love you, ken.”

he presses his smile into the crown of your head. “i love you, too.”

[fallloverfic]

I know at one point it's shown Laios was walking behind Kabru (so he could see Mithrun's head, upper torso, and arms), but... given we only see part of their trying to figure a way out of the maze house, how long was Laios staring pointedly (and longingly) at Mithrun's ass before coming up with an excuse (the story about silk) to get Kabru to let him do this?